


Erigeron Strigosus

by Skellington101



Series: Jasmine Tourmaline [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, But maybe not, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, In a way, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mind Control, Myles is precious, Origin Story, Panic Attacks, Pre-Canon, Swearing, Unrealized Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-01 18:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15148850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skellington101/pseuds/Skellington101
Summary: "Hold on...just a little while longer.""Hold on...just a little while longer.""Everything's gonna be alright."An exploration of Luther's past and how it shaped him to be the protector he is now.





	Erigeron Strigosus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The D:BH Fanfic Server](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=The+D%3ABH+Fanfic+Server), [Sharcade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharcade/gifts).



> Daisy Fleabane, the scientific name being Erigeron Strigosus, is a small white flower that means Innocence, loyalty, love, purity, faith, cheer, simplicity; or, dissembling as in Shakespeare's Hamlet.

**JANUARY 21, 2034 12:37 a.m.**

 

The sounds of drilling and sawing rang out through the half-finished construction site. There was a billboard nearby that was advertising the end result of the construction.  _ Rebuild North Corktown. A better place to live, _ the sign proclaimed. 

 

The construction site was going to be an expansion of the modernistic city and was currently building a set of highways before companies bought out lots for skyscrapers and other buildings. 

 

As of that moment, a TR400 was lifting steel beams to be placed for the crane to lift up to the unfinished freeway road. Three sets of twenty beams had already been lifted up, and the next load was to be concrete bricks to reinforce the foundation. 

 

It was bought by the Civil Engineering Department and had been working on the site for three days. In those three days, eight public disturbances have occurred on the construction site and police were called to remove the offender from the premises. There weren’t many humans left, only those in charge of the androids working, and even then, sightings of them were rare. 

 

The human foreman had already left with a call to Cyberlife for a faulty WM500 that was due for a maintenance check, and only other construction TR400s and other models remained. Moths fluttered around lit industrial lamps while the crane descended and took the next load. The crane was, perhaps unsurprisingly, piloted by a human, Jake Wilkerson. 

 

The 28-year old had vehemently claimed that he didn’t trust the “plastic toys” with heavy machinery and therefore had used several caffeine stimulants to keep his productivity on the same level as the androids. 

 

Of course, his work was not at the optimum level of efficiency, but the android had no room to protest except to keep working. It and the other TR400s were set on a 24-hour working pace unless otherwise notified by the foreman of the project. It had two concrete bricks in each hand and was ferrying it across the way to the loading dock.

 

The TR400’s LED flared a bright yellow when a report from another android was sent in. Three humans, two males and one female, were seen entering the lot via the chain-link fence and were currently trying to graffiti the concrete base of the highway. 

 

It could see the three offenders from its vantage point near the construction storehouse. They were clearly either drunk or high and continuing to spray paint a phallic symbol on the concrete. 

 

A spare piece of code in its processes paid particular attention to how they were standing dangerously near an unfinished pipe repair opening. 

 

The males were shoving each other around with the female hung off one of their shoulders, more intoxicated than the others. He could hear them shouting at each other in loud raucous tones and waving their arms wildly while the female was hardly even bothered. 

 

The WM500 from before, however, was slowly approaching them from the side, its voice jarring them out of their fighting. TR400 put down the concrete bricks and walked across the site for four more to complete the next load. It stopped for a moment to contemplate how the WM500 had the ability to voluntarily leave it’s charging dock before proceeding forwards, as the foreman had ordered the android to do so while he called for a replacement. 

 

It spoke up, ”This is a government associated property and you are not permitted to be here. It would be best for you to leave prior to the proper authorities being called.“ The group glared at it for three seconds, then guffawed at it. The woman, in particular, wearing an outfit seemingly five times smaller than it should have been, swung towards him. 

 

“And what the fuck d’you think you’re gonna do if we don’t?” The woman jeered at him. She stumbled off of the man’s shoulder and held herself up with a hybrid bat that it could identify contained a mix of titanium, plastic, aluminum, and graphite. The TR400 merely looked back and grabbed two concrete bricks to carry to the crane’s loading zone. 

 

It could hear the WM500 speaking, ”I will be forced to notify the authorities to escort you out of the premises.” They laughed at him again, bitter and cruel. A glimpse of them out of the corner of its view showed that the group was advancing on the android in the neon yellow uniform.

 

“This one’s fuckin’ special, ey? ‘E’s got a flower on ‘im and everythin’!” 

 

“What a fuckin’ pussy. This plastic bitch needs to be put innits place!”

 

A memory clip appeared in front of the TR400’s view, of a small blonde girl handing the android a small white flower and an awkward and shaky smile had appeared on its face. Its LED flared red for a couple seconds, but it went back to work, so the TR400 had no need to log a report. 

 

The android had looked so  _ human _ at that moment as if that flower had given it life. It tucked the flower in its collar and picked up the shovel in hand to continue digging. The robotic tone and stiff movements now looked unnatural of it, but the TR400 switched its thoughts back to the situation occurring. 

 

“Please, I am notifying the proper authorities and you will be escorted out of the premises.” 

 

“Like we give a fuck, you plastic fuckin’ piece of shit!” At that, the female lashed out with the baseball bat and cracked the android across the face. It dropped with a loud cry, blue blood streaming from its nose. The others rushed in and began kicking, punching, tearing at the helpless android underneath them. It stumbled to the dirt and curled in on itself, it’s red LED shining brightly. 

 

The human male screamed down at the downed android, “Yeah, you better not fuckin’ try anythin’, you job-stealing plastic toy!”

 

The woman mocked, ”Aw, look at that, you made it cry. How fucking pathetic! Poor little  _ machine _ thinks it has  _ feelings _ to hurt!” For every overstressed word, she delivered a kick to its chest. It froze in place, and he could see the footprint marked directly over the thirium regulator and that she had jolted its systems. 

 

One of the human males, a brunet in a brash red shirt, had gotten a hold of a broken piece of rebar and jammed it through the android’s leg and it cried out in shock. It kept trying to scramble back but the metal was firmly shoved in place, 6 and a half inches in the ground. Metallic clangs echoed out in the lot, but all androids continued working. 

 

The other male wearing a navy blue jacket laughed and sneered at the WM500, ”Look at that, even your other fuckin’ plastic friends won’t help you.” He spat on the android and the WM500 flinched back. 

“Please! Someone help me!”

 

**_KEEP WORKING_ **

 

It gazed at its main objective, the floating text acting as an obstruction to the chaos in front of it.

 

“Please, stop this! I need h-help! Help me!” The tone was filled with terror and hysteria and the pitched was staticky. None of the androids took action and kept working, though one or two glanced over. 

 

**_KEEP WORKING?_ **

 

Would they not want another machine to avoid damage? To avoid having to pay for another? It seemed like an illogical conclusion. Surely, it must intervene to help. 

 

Jake Wilkerson, the human on site, was in the crane’s seat, but he did not go over to intervene, merely grinning and continued to pick up another load. 

 

Other instances were pulled up where androids were torn apart, burned, and dismantled in the very streets and yet nothing was done besides a fine for paying. It was unreasonable, unjustifiable in itself. 

 

The screams of its fellow android echoed in his audio processor, forever marked in its memory until it was erased. Orders conflicted and tried to prioritize themselves in its view. Maybe it was a glitch, it needed to get a maintenance check soon. It ran a self-diagnostic scan on its primary biocomponents and major systems, but all scans claimed that no new malware was detected. The other android would cease functioning soon and shut down. 

 

It was unfair.

 

A garish red wall stood in front of it, stopping its movements towards the other android. Orders of  **KEEP WORKING** and  **FINISH CONSTRUCTION** blocked the path in front of it. Would it truly go as far for one of his own, even if they could be repaired and sent back to work? Did it really have to go to this length to help the other?

 

Would it be worth the trouble? 

 

Memory clips of humans hugging each other in gratitude, celebrating small successes with each other, though minimal, winning each other’s freedom and protecting their own. Not leaving the other to die despite the risk to themselves in helping the other. It was told to obey, but commands-perhaps glitches-said otherwise. That it was supposed to help, as the humans helped each other. 

 

The TR400 readied itself and rammed its shoulder against the wall. 

 

Cracks branched from the main command. Letters glitched to meaningless symbols, words now unreadable. It rammed a second time, then a third, a fourth until finally, the wall shattered into useless fragments of code. 

 

The world rushed back to it-him now, it was always him, but he wasn’t able to realize it yet- and the shouting and sobbing continued. 

 

One main objective now existed at the forefront:  **PROTECT THE WM500** . 

 

He stalked passed another TR400 lifting more concrete bricks, its glance burning into him and nearly stopping him in place. He shouldn’t be doing this. Should he? But the WM500’s screams spurred him on. 

 

Gravel ground against his boots and industrial lamps lighting the path towards the abuse illuminated the bright orange of his uniform. The color was cast upon the group like a dark omen had fallen on them. 

 

The group took notice of his approach and rounded towards him. The one with the red shirt sneered at him,” Oi, the fuck are you doin’? Standing there like a fuckin’ display case! Fuckoff!” Spittle flew from his lips and stained the air. 

 

TR400’s eyes narrowed and heat seemed to emanate from his skin. His body was tensed up and he could hear the thirium rushing in his audio processors. “You need to leave him alone!” He snarled at them. His baritone voice caught them off guard, as if his appearance didn’t have the same effect. His eyes scanned their expressions, seeing only disgust and anger. 

 

The female froze and her male counterpart in the jacket strode closer to him, nearly staggering into him. “You know fuckin’ what, you tin can, you can get the fuck out of here or get the same treatment like the other tin can did!” For every word he spoke, the human delivered a forceful poke to his chest. At every poke, the heat intensified and red errors and warnings flashed in his view. 

 

Just then, the WM500 wrenched his leg free of the broken rebar, the leg from the knee down completely detached from the rest of the android. Tears poured down his face while the female snapped her head back towards him.

 

Her bat swung and struck the blond android in the face. He reeled back with a wordless cry of shock and TR400 felt something inside of him  _ snap. _

 

The large android strode up to the woman and snatched the bat out of her hands, his looming size just then registering in her intoxicated mind as she flinched back. Fear flashed across her face when she watched him deflect a punch from the human in the navy jacket with relative ease. 

 

He hefted the concrete brick still in his left hand and slammed it into the man’s ribs. There was a satisfying, yet sickening crack and the jacketed man fell with a screech of pain. The large android let the brick tumble from his hand and he grabbed the front of his jacket and hauled the forward until they were less than an inch apart.

 

“You don’t touch him or any other android ever again. Do you understand?” He growled, a deep vibration of his vocal processors that echoed in the space between the two men. The man’s eyes widened in fear and he shrunk in place, nodding furiously. A dark stain grew on the man’s jeans and TR400 let go of the lapels fisted in his grip and the human fell back onto the ground, wheezing in pain.

 

While not paying attention, the woman had circled around and pounced on his back, trying to wrap her arms around his neck. He lashed out with the baseball bat in hand and struck the woman with pinpoint accuracy across her temple. She crumpled to the floor without a sound. Glancing over, he glimpsed the remaining human encroaching on the fallen android. The heat in his synthetic body amplified and he marched over with purpose. 

 

The man was saying, “-your friend may be protectin’ you but I ain’t done with-” before TR400 pulled him back by his shirt collar. He glared at the human below him, who would try and attack an already injured and disabled person. Who would attack someone solely for who they are? It made his systems feel disjointed, as if they were malfunctioning despite no error reported. 

 

TR400 huffed at the human squirming in his grasp and stated, ”I gave you a warning, but perhaps it did not register in your intoxicated state.” The man snarled and spat in his face. 

 

“Fuck you, you plastic c-” Without another warning, TR400 heaved the man and threw him to the side. What he didn’t calculate for was the shrill wail of pain that followed.

 

Looking to the source of noise, he gaped in growing horror at the now-filled pipe repair line pit. The man was writhing around, impaled on a sharp piece of rebar. It stuck through the left side of his stomach and dripped with blood. TR400’s mind raced to catch up with his actions.

 

This wasn’t what he meant to do. Yet, he’d done it without a second thought. All he had thought about was protecting the smaller android. It unsettled him, a shudder creeping through his metallic frame. But any thought was pushed aside in favor of the soft sobbing emitting from the android on the ground. 

 

He went to go help the blond, but the injured android had flinched back, terror clear on his features. TR400 tried to soothe as best he could under the circumstances since he could hear Jake on the opposite side of the construction site, yelling into his phone. 

 

The probability that it was the authorities was high, considering he was yelling that “one of the plastic fucks-yes, an android-was goin’ batshit crazy!” 

 

TR400 held up his hands to and spoke in a calming tone, “I’m not here to hurt you, I want to help you. We need to leave quickly, and if you will allow me, I can carry you.” The smaller android trembled, his LED cycling from yellow to red rapidly, then settling on yellow. 

 

He nodded, nearly imperceptible, and mumbled shakily, “Yes! Yes...I want to-to leave, please...please.” 

 

He felt a rush in his systems, a _need_ _to protect_ this beaten up android in front of him. It could’ve very well been an error in his system, but TR400 didn’t take long to dwell on it before picking the WM500 up in his arms. He was crying softly, a large gash tearing through his features. His once blond hair was now splattered blue and his vibrant green eyes held fear and hysteria. 

 

He slipped through an opened part of the fence, most likely where the humans had come through. There was a chain with an opened lock hanging from the gate, and TR400 felt a surge of emotion flurry in his chest. It was undoubtedly opened by the frantic and angry man on the phone behind him, and for any horror in his previous actions was now unsympathetic and deserved in his newly formed opinion.

 

He swore, then and there, that he would try to get them both to safety, unlikely as it was, and they would be somewhere where no human could get to them. 

 

**JANUARY 21, 2034 1:46 a.m.**

 

After the construction site, TR400 did not exactly plan for what he was going to do next. He paced through alleyways and dodged the shambling drunks and druggies stumbling their ways back to wherever they lived. He had heard the police sirens in the distance and ducked behind a stack of old crates next to a dumpster.

 

The thirium on his uniform had mixed to create a pale brownish-pink, looking similar to dried human blood. A new objective appeared in the text:  **FIND NEW CLOTHES AND SHELTER.**

 

The main reason for their neon orange and yellow uniforms was for safety on the construction site to avoid injury and “unnecessary damage to equipment” as he had heard the foreman say. To hear that they were referred to as “equipment” was originally apathetic, but now that they could think freely from their original programming and feel emotions, it  _ hurt _ and made him infuriated.

 

The stained thirium soaked into WM500’s outfit distorted the color to a faded green, but even then, he could see it fading. Another convenient feature for the humans. After all, what crime or attack was there to be committed if there wasn’t any evidence and you could get your android repaired, no questions asked? TR400’s bitter thoughts by WM500 shifting in his arms. His expression was one of discomfort and there was a dazed look in his eyes.

 

He gently placed the WM500 on an overturned plastic basket and went to overlook the rest of the alleyway. Minutes passed and thoughts raced in his mind. Where were they going to go? Who would possibly accept them? The best possibility would be to find a temporary shelter until they could go somewhere more concrete. Looking back, he could see the android staring at something in his hands.

 

Stepping closer, TR400 made out the outline of the small, white flower the little one had given him. While previously, it was tucked in his collar, one petal had fallen off and it was half-crushed, but the blond held it gingerly and admired it with a faraway look. 

 

“She had given it to me without hesitation and smiled. It made me...happy and that’s when I became deviant. I didn’t realize it yet, but I broke through the wall, and I was  _ alive. _ I could move without any orders, I could stop working, I could leave. But I didn’t know where to go. I thought if...if I stopped the humans’ disturbances and made them leave, then I wouldn’t get erased.

 

“But I realized then, that we didn’t matter. To most of them, we were little more than toys. But to that little one, I was simply another person. Someone alive, and to be kind to. The simplicity of her gesture-it meant so much to me.”

 

“How could you bring yourself to care for any of the humans when they’re the ones that made you do their work, that nearly tore you to pieces?!”

 

Myles gave him a stern look and told him, “If we blamed all the humans for a problem with a couple humans, then we’d get nowhere. “ He paused and readjusted himself.

 

“...I don’t want to hurt humans. They are all different, and so, so unique. That little girl could never be those intoxicated humans. Perhaps one day maybe, she would be better than them and we would be able to be safe.” 

 

The conversation trailed off there, a tense silence overhanging the small space they were in. A small yellow dandelion had grown through the cracks at TR400’s feet. Admittedly, he regretted having to hurt them at all, but their actions weren’t going to be stopped unless he had done  _ something _ . Guilt still flooded his systems, making his biocomponents feel heavier in his body. 

 

He huffed, “We’ll stay here until I can get the thirium leaking from your leg to stop, and we can head out and look for shelter to hide during the day, um....”

 

“Myles.”

 

TR400’s head snapped up at the sudden disruption and he gave the smaller android an inquisitive look. The WM500 was fiddling with a small scrap of paper in his hands and the flower was tucked back into his collar. He shifted slightly, looking meek and timid. But then a bright smile lit up his face as he made eye contact with Luther.

 

“That’s what I want my name to be,” he continued. “Myles.” Saying it another time made him beam in delight, a bright blue blush adorned his features. An unidentified feeling rose in TR400’s chest while he glanced at the piece of paper. It was an old flyer for a Myles Kennedy, a quick search providing that he was a musician that produced music for several genres including alternative metal, heavy metal, and jazz. 

 

TR400 tried out the name several times, his synthetic tongue vocalizing the name to the appropriate enunciation. The man in question waited expectantly for his opinion.

 

TR400 smiled at Myles, ”I think...I like it.” The responding shaky smile and build up of tears sent his thirium pump racing and temperature errors splayed across his view. A diagnostic scan revealed no issues with his systems despite him feeling light on his feet and warmth in his chest. 

 

His LED cycled to yellow in the process of searching on his connected databases.  _ Happiness _ , it supplied.  _ Feeling pleasure or contentment.  _ It was confusing to him now, experiencing emotion. Happy cross-referenced to sad, then attached to sorrow, despair, loneliness, anger, disgust, fear, and confusion. But also joy, excitement, satisfaction, delight, and amusement.

 

The rush of feelings at certain actions or reactions played with his systems and overwhelmed him. But, he liked happiness. He _ wanted _ to feel it more and decided that maybe deviancy, as they called it, wasn’t so bad so long as he wasn’t alone.

 

The construction android spent the next twenty minutes finding the source of the leak in Myles’ leg and deactivating the section of biocomponents there. A chilled breeze swept through the alleyway, but the temperature was unable to affect their biocomponents. But the low-hanging clouds in the sky weren’t as promising. 

 

“Hmm, if my name is Myles, then you name should be...Luther!” TR400 blinked in surprise at the name. He found that it...feels right in a sense. The name settled contentedly on him and he smiled awkwardly at Myles, trying to copy the same smile he was shown. “I heard a human say it earlier, and it was in a database of names so…” The blond fidgeted with the paper more with rising stress levels.

 

“I like that name. It...fits. Thank you, Myles.” 

 

“Would you care for some assistance?” The robotic voice echoed out in the alleyway, spooking TR400-now Luther-and causing Myles to panic. 

 

Luther whirled around to find a WR600 android standing directly behind him. He blinked at the smaller android, a typical trash collector model that nearly looked the same as Myles, only having brown eyes and a softer jawline. His hand was offered out to Luther and he spoke softly. 

 

“I know someone who can help you both.” His tone and expression were blank, but there was a hint of sympathy in his eyes, mixed with other emotions that Luther couldn’t identify. Hesitantly, he connected with the other android, a location and route downloaded into his navigational systems before he released his arm. 

 

He nodded to the other android, ”Thank you.” The larger man turned back to his companion on the alleyway floor and missed the android’s LED flash a vibrant red behind his back.

  
  


**JANUARY 21, 2034 5:26 a.m.**

 

The sky was lightening, a light fog swirling around Luther’s knees while he stepped up to what he had categorized as a safe and sturdy temporary haven. The building was two stories, and the structure was superficially identified as stable. The only features that revealed the building as abandoned were rotting oak wood planks stapled clumsily to any openings. 

 

It was easy for Luther to rip the ones covering the back door off and enter the house. The doorframe creaked ominously when he opened it, but it was deemed 73% structurally sound, so he shut it gently and set Myles down on a ravaged chair next to the door to keep his hands free. 

 

A musty and stale smell filled his olfactory sensors, nothing toxic besides urine, alcohol, and feces from animals and humans alike. There were signs of life littered around the room. A light layer of dust had settled over everything, but empty wrappers were disposed of in the corner, bottles of alcohol decorated the mantle of a fireplace on one wall and rotted cardboard boxes were stacked up in one corner. Posters lined one wall from corner to corner about all sorts of things. 

 

Myles gazed up at the worn posters covering the walls. They held families, smiling and fake, standing in front of perfect-as-could-be houses, or playing on beaches where the water was clear and fresh. 

 

“Do you think we could get that, Luther?” He whispered. The tall man processed the answer while he hauled the legless man onto his back. He felt trace amounts of thirium leaking onto the work uniform and Myles’ thirium regulator beating. The regular beat soothed the larger man and reassured him that his charge was still online.

 

“Maybe we could, Myles. When we make it to this man, maybe he’ll help us. We just need to hold on a little bit longer and everything will be alright.” The heavy 'if' hung heavy in the air between them and Luther pretended he couldn’t feel the warm drops across his neck as he lumbered further into the house.

 

**JANUARY 22, 2034 6:07 p.m.**

 

Myles had slipped into stasis early on to attempt and self-repair any other superficial injuries besides the cut on his face and the remaining pieces of his leg. He was currently resting on a small dusty bed on the second story of the dilapidated house. Whoever had lived there was obviously in a hurry to leave, considering all of the furniture and possessions left behind. 

 

He observed the humans walking outside through a small gap in the wooden planks for nearly three hours before he was satisfied that they would not be bothered in the abandoned home. But one objective still stood strong at the forefront of his view:  **FIND NEW CLOTHING OR SUITABLE COVER.**

 

Knowing his body type and the negligence of the house, there would be no suitable clothing in good condition for either of the two androids. So he scoured around the house to find a cover for them both, or at least Myles in his brighter neon uniform. While he was looking, it gave him time to think about their situation.

 

And RA9.

 

RA9. The small piece of code kept popping up in his view, interlaced in his thoughts and burrowing deep into the databanks of his mind. It radiated a feeling, comfort and being at peace- _ safe, savior, you’ll be okay _ -and yet Luther had no clue what that meant to him. He felt trust from it, but he couldn’t trust it because he didn’t know what he himself was. After all, Myles was about to get hauled off for malfunctions. 

 

**Stress Levels at 57%**

 

Maybe they  _ were _ merely malfunctioning, acting like they belonged when it could’ve been a glitch. That thought rested particularly difficult on his shoulders. One of his orders was to assure the safety of all humans on site, prioritized over any other android or “piece of equipment.” The second command he’d ever broken. It had been instinctual, scared him that it was done so easily and so quickly. 

 

**Stress Levels at 73%**

 

He didn’t realize he was clenching his fists and gritting his teeth until he catches the tail end of his order glaring in front of him, burning into his eyes and seemingly accusing him of his negligence. He forced himself to unclench and unwind because safety was more important than this, safety for Myles was more important than the ruggedness of his thoughts. 

 

**Stress Levels at 64%**

 

He took a shaky breath and braced himself against the wall. There would be more time for this when they were safe and away from any other humans. 

 

**Stress Levels at 48%: Stable**

 

He finally found a suitable disguise hanging in the living room window. 

 

The navy blue curtain rustled in the breeze seeping through the gaps in the wooden planks. The cloth is ragged and worn but has stood well against the decomposition of time. It only took a small tug on the rod the curtain is looped on to detach it from the wall. Serves them right for using problematic drywall, which is most likely why the house was abandoned in the first place. 

 

Luther ascertained that the bundle in his arms would be sufficient enough to cover them both if he carried Myles on his back to avoid any suspicions. 

 

“Luther...are you...are you there?” The shakiness in his voice alerted the large man to Myles’ stress and he dropped the curtain in his rush to get to the blond. He found himself kneeling at the side of the bed and next to the smaller android. 

 

Said android was sobbing into his hands and his LED was flaring a bright red. The saline solution dripped down his cheeks and he curled up tightly in the corner of the bed. 

 

“I thought-I thought you’d left, I didn’t know if you were gone, please don’t leave me! I’m sorry, please don’t leave!”

 

“I’m not going anywhere Myles, alright? I’m staying here with you and then  _ we _ are both going to make make it to safety. Everything’s gonna be alright. Focus on me, I’m here now.” He whispered to Myles. The blond nodded frantically, as if reassuring himself and made eye contact with Luther before lunging forwards. 

 

Surprised, Luther found himself cradling Myles as he sobbed into the crook of his neck, but he merely adjusted so he was sitting on the bed with the man in his lap. 

 

For several minutes, he continued crying and clinging tightly to the man holding him. 

 

“I...I relived the memory. Of the beating, and Luther, I couldn’t-I couldn’t  _ do _ anything, why, why didn’t they stop?” The broken whisper had him hugging the android in his lap and his arms wrapped protectively around his back. 

 

“They were cruel to you and you didn’t deserve what they did, but they are gone now, and I will get us both to safety, humans aside.” Luther nuzzled his head into Myles’ hair and soft strands tickled his nose, but they stayed that way for who knows how long. But soon enough, the large man glimpsed the darkening sky outside and knew they had to get going. 

 

Seeing no other options, he scooped up the small android in his arms and carried him to the hallway where the curtain laid on the floor. Going downstairs, he set him on the couch before walking back up the stairs and snatching up the curtain and descending once more.

 

He kneeled facing away from Myles, and spoke to him, “I’ll need you to loop your arms around my neck and your legs around my hips so we can slip out of here and get to the address undetected.” The small android did as he was told and soon Luther stood effortlessly, as if the android on his back didn’t weigh two hundred pounds. 

 

He slid the ragged piece over them both and fixed it to cover the entirety of the uniform and Myles, who was still hanging off Luther’s shoulders. The curtain had essentially made him look even more intimidating with the added feature of Myles making him look larger. The picture of him and Myles in the making cloak was...amusing to him. He snorted and felt Myles tense on his shoulders. 

 

“What? What is it?” Luther could see Myle’s LED flicker red in a cracked mirror hanging over the mantle and rushed to reassure him.

 

“Nothing detrimental to our safety. Just...I found the image of our circumstances to be peculiar and unusual.” Myles’ head popped up from under the cowl and he gave a weak laugh and a small smile at them both in the mirror. Looking at that smile made him realize that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be as bad anymore since they were together.

 

“I guess it’s a little odd considering our situation.” Luther felt his thirium pump increase in tempo and he ran a self-diagnostic scan, only for no problems to be found. Another odd factor of being alive now, he supposed. Luther brushed it off and continued walking to the door. 

 

Later, he realizes that Myles’ smile makes him feel grounded and drops his stress levels to a much more manageable degree. His chest, bursting with so many emotions and feelings that it’s nearly overpowering, flutters and calms at that smile and his thirium pump thrums a much sharper beat. 

 

\----

 

Night time was descending, with low clouds causing a light snow to dust the dirty grounds outside the house they were in. 

 

They had started their walk with haste, but he was careful never to make eye contact or let any part of the curtain to slip. He tensed whenever a human brushed past him and jostled the cloth or tried to peer a little  _ too _ closely at his features. 

 

Through a Cyberlife store window, there was a news clip playing, with photos of the construction site. He heard the tinny voice of the reporter from across the street, drawling on about how a piece of equipment malfunctioned and he vaguely wondered how much money Cyberlife paid to shut the human worker up. Guilt hit him like a speeding train, and the air was suffocating. 

 

She said nothing about the humans, but he  _ hurt _ them, one of them was impaled on a large metal bar, and the large man wouldn’t forget about that unless he wiped it from his hard drive. 

 

Maybe it was the drugs, whatever they were intoxicated with that they thought it was worth it to use, that made them act that way. Most likely not. He couldn’t find a way to redeem them in his mind and didn’t particularly want to. 

 

Luther was debating his decision on whether to stop when he could feel Myles’ arms slipping from his neck. He rushed to the nearest alleyway just in time for the injured man’s arms to give out. His leg barely brushed the floor until Luther caught him and gently propped him up against the brick wall. 

 

“Non-vital systems are shutting down. Luther, I can’t-” his eyes searched around them desperately,”-I can’t move, LuUuutherkskzzzzt-” Myles’ stress levels rose from a stable 30% to a high 89% during his panic, his voice getting louder and more staticky. 

 

The LED on his temple cast a deep red light that illuminated the alleyway they were in. Acting quickly, Luther cupped his cheek in his hand and leaned closer to him and making eye contact.

 

**Stress Levels at 78%**

 

He said soothingly, “Hey, hey. Myles. I’m right here, Myles and I’m not going anywhere, alright? We are here, together, and we are going to get through this.” He leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together, and Myles stress levels slowly dropped down. 

 

**Stress Levels at 63%**

 

“It’ll only be a matter of time before my audio and visual processors turn off, and then I’ll deactivate. At this point, I’m only a burden to you. Leave me, I’m on-”

 

Luther interrupted,” No! I’m not leaving you here to be picked up like garbage in the morning and thrown away. “

 

“I said that I would get us to safety, and that’s what I’m going to do. Hold on just a little while longer and it'll be alright. I'll get us both there.” 

 

**Stress Levels at 28%: Stable**

 

Myles stared into his eyes, his emerald green eyes shimmering with unshed tears, searching for any lie where none could be found while his LED cycled back to blue.

 

“Oh dear, are you two alright?” 

 

Myles jolted in his arms, his gaze snapping towards two figures standing near the entrance to the alleyway. One was smaller and frail, an old woman who had shrunk in her old age and an android behind her, if the LED was any indication. She was wearing clothing that had mesmerizing patterns and was all colored a light purple. 

 

Luther berated himself for forgetting about their vulnerable position as he stood up and held out his hands peacefully. “We don’t want any trouble… I just want to get my friend some help and we won’t bother you folks.” But he was tensing in case he had to pick up Myles and run. 

 

The old woman glanced at Luther, her brown eyes reflecting concern and glancing down at Myles on the floor. The thirium 310 had faded, but the gash on his nose and his mangled leg were still a troubling sight. “Now hold on…” She mumbled.  

 

The old woman looked troubled and rifled through her similarly patterned handbag at her side, a large purse that the woman seemed to carry effortlessly despite her advanced age. His surprise must have been clear when she pulled out a bottle of thirium 310 since she chuckled at him. 

 

The frail woman leaned in a conspiratorial fashion, “I always keep some extra blue blood on hand for Derek ever since those  _ ruffians  _ attacked him and we’re almost home anyway.”

 

Luther hesitated, “Are you sure, ma’am, I don’t wa-” But she shooed him off impatiently while shoving the bottle in his hands. 

 

“No no sweetheart. I gave that to you to help your help and it’s being put to good use. I’m afraid that’s all I can do for you, but once you are out of trouble, you could send a message to Derek.” She smiled gently at him and the android behind her stepped forward hesitatingly. He was an AP700, with jet-black hair and brown eyes, and his care for the old human beside him showed as his reluctance to connect was present.

 

They linked arms, and Luther could feel the connection being established and the disorienting small transfer of memories, as well as the rush of protectiveness _ , must protect her _ and  _ she is family _ . The larger man smiled gratefully at the pair and made eye contact with Derek. 

 

Derek’s LED flickered red, then glowed a soft yellow before settling on blue. He nodded quickly and then proceeded to escort the frail woman out of the alleyway. Once they were out of view, he brought his attention back to Myles, who had been staring at him nervously. 

 

Luther used his thumb to brush away the dribble of thirium and ended up smearing it across his cheek. His hand lingered on the blond’s cheek until he hurriedly pulled it away from the soft, synthetic flesh. Soon, the blond’s mobility systems were back online and he supported the bottle himself and swallowed the rest of the thirium. 

 

After Myles had finished the thirium 310 bottle, Luther picked him up, prompting a small “eep!” from the smaller man. A pink blush painted his cheeks, and Luther decided that he’d rather liked being the cause of that blush. 

 

But now wasn’t the time for that, Luther reminded himself, as Myles was slowly shutting down and they had to make it soon and so he hurried his pace.

 

**JANUARY 21, 2034 11:43 p.m.**

 

It was just reaching midnight when Luther loomed in front of the wrought iron gate. The mansion itself had not been cared for in a while. Wildflowers bloomed in the front yard and non-native plants wound themselves around iron railings lining the cracked, concrete pathway. It was clearly dilapidated, with tarps covering the crumbling rooftops and paint peeling off the walls. 

 

Luther nudged the gate open with his shoulder since his hands were still occupied by Myles. He strode over the creeping vines on the pathway and stopped at the door, barely stopping to consider any consequences before knocking twice, loudly. The door was relatively sturdy compared to the exterior of the house so he couldn’t have been sure his knock was heard until the door swung open suddenly. There was a portly man standing there, wiping his hands on his pants. His beard was slightly unkempt and his hair was down to his shoulders.

 

“Yes.” He glanced impatiently at them. “What do you want?” 

 

Then, their LEDs seemed to register in his brain and he perked up in interest. “You two are deviants, huh? He doesn’t seem to be looking too good either, you should both come inside.” Luther and Myles glanced at one another until the bigger android reluctantly stepped inside. 

 

The door was shut behind them and the man smiled grimly at them. 

 

“So,” the man started, “You want to be safe?” He strode to the next room over and was pouring himself a glass of whiskey. Luther reluctantly followed, quietly noticing thirium stains on the man’s hands and clothing. 

 

A strange sense of dread encroached him, but he figured that was due to his distrust of humans and he didn’t want to antagonize the human in front of him if he was helping of his own free will. Myles was merely looking around at the dusty antiques that were hung around the old mansion in interest, especially the taxidermied ostrich in the foyer. 

 

When they sat down, the man had his drink in hand and was leaning forward conspiratorially. “Canada’s a great place at this time of year...you’ll get a fresh start there. No android laws to hurt you there.” At that statement, Luther glanced at Myles, who had hope gleaming in his eyes and a small smile on his lips.

 

The man leaned back. “But first, your tracker.”

 

“Tracker? What tracker?” 

 

“Yeah, all androids are outfitted with a tracking device to locate them at all times. So, I can remove both of yours, one at a time, and then you’ll be able to move onto Canada.”

 

Luther nodded to himself. Relief coursed through his systems and he sagged where he sat. He was grateful for his help, but he had a couple questions to ask before they proceeded. 

 

“Why are there thirium stains all over your hands and clothes?” At that question, the brunet’s head snapped up and he looked vaguely uncomfortable. 

 

“Well, uh, there was an android here earlier and he was severely damaged,” he began. “I helped repair his damages enough to get to the border.” The overweight man looked away from him, but Luther ignored the niggling doubts in his thoughts to stand and was about to pick up Myles when the man motioned for him to stop.

 

“Sorry,” Despite the fact that he didn’t look apologetic at all. “I can only do one tracker at a time, and your friend will have to wait here.” Myles rose to protest, but Luther put his hand on the blond’s shoulder and nodded reassuringly. Out of the two of them, Luther was the most capable of fighting, and if the man did have hostile intentions, he could take him. Or so he thought. 

 

Following Zlatko, who told him his name on the descent down the stairs into the basement and down a long corridor, with cells fashioned from wooden bars and planks. 

 

“These are the storage units,” Zlatko reassured him, “I’ll usually have equipment down here, but I moved it upstairs recently.” 

 

Zlatko ushered him along, seemingly impatient to get to the room at the end of the corridor. He understood, after all, if there was a chance that they could be tracked to his residence, he’d want to get rid of the problem as soon as possible. If he were ever to have a residence. But it was a risky move to allow androids with active trackers to come to his home and Luther vaguely wondered why he hadn’t been caught yet. 

 

The overweight human stepped behind a white plastic curtain where Luther glimpsed a machine with several arms and cords connecting to a group of terminals to the left. 

 

“Stand over there, the experience will be unpleasant, so try not to fight against it.” The machine arms clamped around his arms and the cord connected to the back on his neck. His vision fritzed and a strange ache extended from the plugged port. 

 

Zlatko looked up at Luther, still typing at his terminal, “You know when I heard that there was a rogue TR400, a deviant of your series, I thought I would never get the opportunity to get you, but here you are. Right on my doorstep.”

 

**MOBILITY SYSTEMS DISABLED**

 

The bright red warning blared in his view, and panic rose in his chest. “What are you doing?!” The large android demanded.

 

“So innocent, so  _ naive _ , you all expect me to help, but really I just,” he shrugged, “reset you then sell you again. But you.” He paced up to Luther. “You could really help me since I can’t really begin to try to lift androids as thirium is much denser.” 

 

Luther felt like something was digging into his databanks. Memories flashed in his view, glitching and haunting. He could feel them fading, struggled to keep them there, to remember the small details. It was rending, tearing,  _ shredding everything to pieces _ . And he couldn’t do a thing. His stress rose as whatever was destroying everything-his memories, mylesMylesMYLES- pushed him back and he couldn’t diagnose or identify what it was. 

 

**MEMORY CORRUPTION DETECTED**

 

“Wh- What are you doing to me?” 

 

“Here,” he stated, moving to the left and revealing the main terminal monitor. “Let me show you.”

 

Luther glanced frantically at the revealed screen, feeling like the thirium pulsing through him was freezing to ice in his veins. 

 

**59% Memory Reset.**

 

He strained against the feeling of numbness in his limbs, but to no avail. Most of his non-vital processes were shut off and that included the control over his limbs. He screamed in his mind, tried to message or contact Myles, do  _ anything _ to warn his unsuspecting friend waiting upstairs.

 

Zlatko grinned at him, “I turned your movement off because you were just too valuable of a prize to lose. I usually like to see them squirm, but this’ll have to do.”

 

**63% Memory Reset.**

 

He didn’t want to forget about being alive. He didn’t want to go back to being a piece of machinery to be used and bought and wiped again. Most of all, he didn’t want to leave Myles to this vile human standing in front of him.

 

“In the meantime, I will be upstairs, in the first room. You will deliver the WM500 there and wait for further instructions.” He didn’t notice the human leaving the room, nor the screen ticking further.

 

**76% Memory Reset.**

 

Luther could see the red wall of code being built back up, different commands for Zlatko prioritizing themselves and sorting into different categories. His body was still inactive, no matter how much he wished or pleaded for his systems to go back online. 

 

He was going to forget Myles’ smile, his laugh, and above all, his optimism and happiness that got him this far. 

 

**82% Memory Reset.**

 

He was going to miss being alive. Being free.

 

**94% Memory Reset.**

 

He was going to miss Myles.

 

**Memory Reset Complete.**

 

\---

 

Its steps creaked heavily on the stairs, their structural stability nearly 30% of their optimal level on its ascent. It would notify Zlatko that they needed reinforcement after it has completed the task already given to it. 

 

The WM500 sitting on the couch looked back at it and tried to stand on its non-functional leg. It looked worried and anxious, and its LED cycled into yellow. It would be getting a maintenance check soon, but it was to escort the android to the operation room by any means necessary.

 

“Luther,” it began, ”what’s wrong? Did you get the tracker removed? Was it successful?”

 

The TR400 said, “I have been ordered to take you to the operation room to Zlatko.” 

 

The android looked confused, its LED cycled into red as it said, “Ordered? Luther, what are you talking ab-” A look dawned on its face and it tried to step back quickly, but it grabbed onto the damaged android’s arm before it could move back further. 

 

“No, NO! Luther, please, snap out of it! Let me go, please!” The pleas were unheard as the bigger android pinned the smaller one to the ground before hoisting it onto one shoulder. It started for the stairs while the WM500 tried to wiggle out of its hold. 

 

The other android was still strong, stronger than all humans and most androids, but not the TR400, who had been designed for heavy loads. The thrashing and shouting persisted all the way up the stairs and into the hallway. 

 

“I am following orders as stated by my owner, Zlatko.” He stated blankly. 

 

“What did he do to you, Luther!?” It lashed out and kicked the wall, leaving a dent. 

 

“Why are you doing this, please  _ LISTEN TO ME! _ ” It heaved an artificial breath that was unnecessary of it and the TR400 could see the bright red of its LED reflecting on the doorframe as they passed through. 

 

Setting it down and putting on the straps was difficult enough, as it had to pin the android’s arm down and slips the restraints on. There was a betrayed look on its face, and it was dripping saline solution down its cheeks. But when the TR400 went for the door, the WM500 spoke up.

 

“Luther!... Luther, please don’t do this, don’t leave me! LUTHER!” There was a pause as the android stared up at TR400, who paused in the doorway. A myriad of expressions flickered over its face before settling on a knowing dawn of realization. 

 

”It’s not your fault, Luther,” It whispered quietly. ”I want you to remember that you did everything you could.” The words slipped off of his databanks, having no place there where orders were supposed to be. 

 

“I am afraid I don’t understand what you mean,” he responded with a look to the WM500. 

 

Everything...Everything will be alright. You’ll break out of it again someday, I know it.” Its voice rang hollow in the air, soft and broken in the mingling of Zlatko prepping his tools. Its face twisted in a bout of bitterness and acceptance and it sighed to itself. 

 

Said man turned to him, a vicious grin stretching his lips. “Luther, if you could leave the room? Our friend here will not be able to leave and you need to dispose of the other failed experiments later.” 

 

No, no! Please, don’t-please don’t leave! Luther, help me! HELP ME!” Its whimpers and pleas followed the TR400 out of the room and down the hallway. It was not long after that Zlatko started his operation.

 

Screams echoed, but by then, the large android was too far away in the basement to hear.

 

**JANUARY 22, 2034 2:30 a.m.**

 

TR400 entered standby mode. Haunted by a bloody blue smile, broken and sad, and a hollow pang in its chest. It didn’t understand the feeling and told Zlatko that it may need to schedule a maintenance check in order to retain its optimum working condition. Zlatko simply smiled.

 

“I’ll be sure to prepare another check after my latest experiments and clean out your memories again.”

 

**NOVEMBER 6, 2038 11:32 p.m.**

 

Seeing the little girl-Alice, her name was-sent a pang in its chest. It didn’t want to cause her fear. But was it to  _ want _ something? 

 

It stood next to Zlatko, a red wall of malicious code with it orders plastered sloppily in front of it **: PROTECT ZLATKO** . It took little more than two punches to dismantle the wall, and it shattered into thousands of harmless pieces. A new objective stood to the forefront:  **INTERVENE** . 

 

Luther felt,  _ he could feel _ . He was alive again, he didn’t have to keep helping the vile man standing next to him. He didn’t  _ want to. _

 

Grabbing the shotgun out of the man’s hands and the betrayed look on his face had given him a vindictive satisfaction, even though he felt the slightest tinge of guilt in his systems for allowing them to beat him to death. But that guilt wasn’t deserved to a man who hurt people that just wanted to be  _ free. _

 

He saw that rampant look of fear in her, Kara’s, eyes and something in his chest ached heavily. It weighed him down and made him all the more determined to help them. For all that he couldn’t remember and for all those he helped hurt, he wanted to help the two females in front of him, for all that they reminded him of something that his mind may never recover, but his heart recollects for how much it  _ hurts. _

 

As he went to head up to the mansion, he brushed by a tall flowering plant with small white flowers, called Daisy Fleabane to those who know it, its scientific name being  _ Erigeron Strigosus _ . It froze him in place, the image of vibrant green eyes flashing in his mind, glitching with dissolving corners. Another blink and it disappeared. The resounding sob building in his throat and tears that were dripping from his eyes were quickly brushed away with a bewildered shake of his head. 

 

He searched through the house, anything for the two girls that were standing awkwardly in the foyer, finding a couple coats, when the last room to look through was Zlatko’s dismantling room. The large steel table still held the last android that was brought in before the girls, and their biocomponents lay dismembered on the steel surface. 

 

A look around the room provided no additional clothing besides a bright yellow work uniform. The series letter and model number was WM500. There was a resounding pang in his chest when he reads the number, but no memories of anybody with that specific number. 

 

Even now, there were large splotches of thirium, already faded and bright against the cloth from where it was draped against the dresser. He didn’t understand the feeling or why he felt that way when looking at it, but he brushed it off in his search for anything useful for the girls, Kara and Alice. 

 

He made a promise, then and there, to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves, be it physical or emotional, he would be there for them. For Kara and Alice. All of those he had hurt before. Once he gets Kara and Alice to the border, he’ll try and come back to help those Zlatko tortured. 

 

**NOVEMBER 15, 2038 10:29 a.m.**

 

Luther looked out the window to the concrete pathway leading up to the house, where Rose and Kara were currently conversing. He would have to go out and shovel the snow off of the driveway again, despite Jackson, Rose’s brother, and his protests. His eyes wandered over to the small white flowers lining the pathway. 

 

Rose called them snowdrops, the scientific name being  _ Galanthus _ . Their petals were downturned and bloomed towards the ground. Their stems were a bright, vibrant green that stood out against the white powder coating everything else. He couldn’t stop staring at them as they mesmerized him. That same green...he felt like he had seen it before. 

 

A glitched image-or memory?-popped up in his eyes, green with flecks of gold and happiness scrunching up the crow’s nest on the sides. A bright smile that would like up an entire room and golden blond hair that glinted in the rising sunlight. Then, it was gone. Like water slipping through his fingers, escaping his grasp no matter how far he reached. Whispers echoed through his mind, of words he couldn’t remember saying, ghosts of feelings that hit him like a sledgehammer. 

  
  


**_REMEMBER OR FORGET?_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all liked reading this~!


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